


Finish That Story For Me.

by RainingCantaloupes



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Ben Mitchell X Callum Highway, Content We Never Got, M/M, Missing Moments, Romance, Scenes We'd Like To See, Sexuality Crisis, Shameless Smut, ballum - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-28 07:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainingCantaloupes/pseuds/RainingCantaloupes
Summary: Think of this as missing Ballum scenes we never got because Eastenders is a family show. Should feel half canon and half me clowning, but I'll try to keep them in character. Will be smut filled from the start because, you know, someone's gotta do it. These two might well be the death of me and as I can't find the fic I want, I'm gonna write it myself. Feedback and comments always much appreciated - eager to meet more Ballum stans!I'll aim for six and see where we end up! :)





	1. I Guess That's Why They Call You, Halfway.

The first important thing Callum learnt about Ben Mitchell was that he was clearly used to being hit. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper but Ben had pushed. Pushed and pushed and pushed. A sarcastic comment here, a gleeful smirk there. He showed no remorse. None at all, even though Callum had nearly spent the night behind bars as a consequence of his dodgy dealings.

_I’ve sorted it._ Ben had said, all cock sure and breezy as though a click of his fingers was enough to call off the whole of London’s metropolitan police force. 

Outside the parlour and repeatedly banging his head against cold stone wall, half tempted to draw blood, Callum couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. He sat there, replaying the encounter over and over again. He wasn’t a fighter and yet the violent streak he’d seen repeatedly in his father and, on occasion, his brother, had overtaken the most common of his own senses. When he’d slammed Ben against that door, he’d wanted to redecorate the Beale’s living room with his blood.

He’d thought too long. That was the truth of it. On reflection, he wished he had just drawn his arm back and smashed clenched knuckles against Ben’s miraculously still straight nose. Instead he kept him pinned there, fingers spending a few extra and completely unnecessary seconds fisted in the fabric of his collar as he stared. He was so warm.

At no point did Callum give his brain permission to glance down at Ben’s mouth. He could feel his heavy breaths ghosting across his face and the faint remnants of polo mints on his tongue were enough for instincts he’d long since buried to take over his clouded mind. Ben hadn’t needed any further confirmation. Eyes widened and the young Mitchell’s face almost burst with elation. Inhaling deep on his shoulder, Ben had pinned Callum with those vicious, devilish eyes and murmured a sentence that the taller knew was going to haunt him forever.

_I smell queer._

Callum fought back hot tears, rubbing angrily at his eyes as he tried to shake off whatever the hell had just happened. He didn’t know why he was letting Ben to get to him so much. He didn’t know why his radical assumptions filled him with fear. He didn’t know why it had taken so long for him to deny it. He didn’t know why he was ignoring Whitney’s insistent phone calls.

He didn’t know why, full stop. 

*

The second thing Callum learnt about Ben Mitchell was that he possessed the power to bestow curses on innocent people who just wanted an easy life.

The last seven days had been torture. Torture at the hands of Mitchell offspring. Callum could feel his frustration towards him growing by the second. He’d never met someone so annoying in his entire life. Callum was just another pawn in his chess game, an endless source of entertainment if his constant refusal to drop the fucking subject was anything to go by. A victim of some warped form of telepathy, Callum found himself compelled to meet Ben’s smug stare whenever he walked into a room. His wide doe eyes always found the same knowing smirk. Every single time.

Callum had gone to find him after one incriminating remark too many and an invite to Kathy’s new gay bar which was opening up on the square. He’d cornered him in the car lot in an attempt to be threatening but, as usual, Ben seemed unphased and he was the one who ended up tongue tied. 

_The harder you try and pretend it ain’t there, the worse it gets._

After allowing him past to service a man with a Volvo, Callum had bolted home and distracted himself by helping Whitney plan their flat-warming party with Ben’s words ricocheting around his head.

By the time the night in question finally rolled around, Callum had begun to wish he’d never even suggested it. Mercifully, after the first wave of guests had arrived, Jay reliably informed him that Ben wouldn’t be coming because he was busy hooking up with a match from Grindr. Shaking off a weird twinge of something that felt eerily reminiscent of jealousy, Callum allowed himself to bask in relief. He’d downed his beer from the bottle, finally able to relax knowing that the mouthy bastard wouldn’t be making his presence felt where it wasn’t wanted for once. He’d already roped in Stuart’s help as a back-up plan, hoping that a bit of a fright would encourage Ben to keep his lips firmly sealed. 

His blissful peace had lasted for approximately ninety-six minutes. Not that Callum was counting. When a clearly intoxicated Ben practically fell through his front door, Callum’s heart had sunk. Ben’s glazed eyes locked against his within moments, intimidating as ever as he took a swig of vodka from the already half empty bottle. No matter how hard he tried, Callum couldn’t tear his own away.

Thanks to the curse Ben had casted over him, Callum didn’t miss it when Ben disappeared into his and Whitney’s spare room. He watched the door for fifteen long minutes before backing a shot of tequila and bursting in there himself, ready to drag Ben out of his flat by his ears if he had to. Callum hadn’t been prepared to find him in the state he was in. Not just drunk, but broken. Vulnerable. No one had told him that Ben’s ex had been beaten to death. No one had told him that Ben was messed up. 

No one ever told him anything.

Eventually, he’d recruited Jay’s help after trying to help Ben up out of the bed which beheld so many bad memories for him, just for him to resist like a child and coil closer around the pillow he was clutching. When Whitney and Jay abandoned him to locate Ben’s misplaced phone, Callum held the inebriate’s arm tight around his shoulders in support, keeping him upright. As was becoming commonplace, two sets of blue irises met. That was the moment Callum had realised there was more to Ben Mitchell than the gossip, the manslaughter charge and the reputation. That was the moment Callum had realised there was a side to Ben Mitchell that he wanted to know.

*

It was his brother that had ruined the tentative friendship that might have blossomed between them after that night. Following two conversations in one morning, the first of which had ended sourly because, and Callum made a mental note of this, Ben had a sharp and very quick tongue, he’d abandoned Jay at work and headed to the pub to apologise for any offence caused. Despite having already called off Stuart’s interference, the elder Highway had worked it out anyway. Well, worked half of it out. The next thing Callum knew he was breaking them up in the gents. The look Ben had fired at him upon finding out that he was responsible was not one he ever wanted to see on the young man’s face again.

Callum spent lunch the next day scolding his brother, having thought over the apology he owed Ben all night and wondering how he was actually going to deliver it. He needn’t have bothered. Stuart stepped inside the café on a hunt to find a full bottle of ketchup and before Callum had the chance to process his appearance, Ben collapsed in the seat opposite and casually nicked one of his chips.

_Oh_, Ben had grimaced, _more salt!_

The third thing Callum learnt about Ben Mitchell was that he got his kicks out of playing with fire.

*

The next afternoon was no different when Whitney had dragged him against his will over to the children’s playground. If he hadn't known better, Callum would have thought Ben looked normal playing with his daughter, maybe even sweet. Quite the family man. He was reminded of the exact opposite when Whitney caught his attention and Ben spotted him standing there, awkward as ever, and the corners of his wicked mouth upturned.

_Callum tell you we were talking earlier? He wants to… come out._

He had tried to say that he didn’t want to go. That the thought of spending an entire evening in Ben’s company was not, by any means, his idea of a good time. Unfortunately for him, assertiveness was not a personality trait he’d acquired over the years, despite so many spent in the army. He always had been better at taking orders rather than giving them. Consequently, Whitney had rail-roaded him within minutes and that was how he now found himself at E20, sipping whiskey and coke whilst pretending to listen to Jay when actually, his eyes were glued to Ben who was laughing with the girls and looked a hell of a lot freer than he could ever remember feeling.

Ben had outstretched an olive branch. One that Callum wasn’t sure whether or not he could accept. There was something about the way he felt around Ben that unsettled him, picked up his heartbeat in a way he hadn’t felt since the battlefield. He couldn’t understand why Ben was so concerned about him and when he’d asked, he didn't understand the reply. 

Jay was talking about Ruby, undecided whether or not he saw a future with her. Callum couldn’t understand why. She was a pretty girl, she seemed nice. Okay, she’d been through some stuff but who hadn’t? Jay could do a lot worse. 

Attention flickering between his girlfriend, the actual love of his life and a boy who was enjoying turning his world upside down, Callum turned his phone over in his palm. It dawned on him when a pair of mischievous eyes glittered back at him that life might not always be that simple. 

That what you wanted, wasn’t always what was good for you.

*

_Park. Ten minutes. 11.29 PM_

He hadn’t expected Ben to be so blatant. He’d spent over half an hour with his thumb hovering over the send button and when, after another two shots of vodka, he’d finally plucked up the courage to press it, he did not expect Ben to bail within five seconds of reading the text. He shot him a glance on his way out the door, expression unreadable. 

Callum knew disappearing straight after him might raise suspicion so he hung around for a while, downing another glass for dutch courage before weaving his way through the crowded dance floor. Finding Whitney who was preoccupied cutting shapes and way past an acceptable level of tipsy for a Thursday night, he mouthed over the music that he was popping out to get some air. She nodded brightly, leaning in to peck him on the lips before turning back to Ruby and joining in with the chorus of a pop song that he didn't recognise. 

The night air was cool even in the midst of summer, reassuring as his feet carried him towards the park. He hesitated more than once, brain occasionally overriding his limbs and forcing him to question what the fuck he was planning on doing once he got there. He could beg, plead with him to leave off and give him a break. Tell him that anything he thought he knew, he didn't. Alternatively, he could pick up a brick and cave his skull in. Teach him a lesson. Neither option really appealed. He wasn’t either of those people. 

He’d never been too much like anyone. 

He slowed up once he got there, the darkness concealing any inhabitants of the empty grounds amidst the trees. His stomach lurched, considering the possibility that maybe he hadn’t come. Perhaps he’d had a better offer. Then he heard him, his voice echoing in his ears. It was just the two of them and what seemed like hundreds of humming crickets. 

“You took your time.”

*

Ben was braced to be floored and Callum couldn’t find his words. The dare was there in his voice, written all over his face and that made him sad. The bullies at school. His dad. Convicts in prison. The men who had murdered his lover. So many people had hurt him and he was past caring. Callum could see it in his eyes, underneath all the bravado was a man with a deathwish. A man who didn't mind if he lived or died. 

“So if it’s gonna make you feel better, hit me.” 

_It’s not._ Callum wanted to say. He wasn’t like them. He’d been there too. He had been alone too, knew that pain better than he knew how to express. He still was alone. He didn't belong anywhere either.

“I’ve got a girl, I’ve got a flat. I’ve got everything.” Callum stammered, eyes still locked on the chaotic, furious man in front of him. “So why do I feel so lonely? I’m so tired of feeling lonely.” 

In an instant, the fiery rage burning in Ben’s eyes died and the fourth thing Callum learnt about Ben Mitchell was that the gentle touch of his fingertips against his cheek made his chest tighten in a way he’d never felt before.

Ben guided him more than anything. There was no pressure behind his touch when Callum leaned down, heart hammering against his ribcage and gently fit their lips together. It was brief. He pulled away in seconds and watched as Ben’s eyelashes fluttered back open. He’d never kissed a man before. He couldn’t understand why he didn't feel guilty, the moment so far removed from his real life, from who he was meant to be. That, he supposed, was the reason he wanted more. So much more. 

The next time their lips met, Callum’s had found his resolve. He kissed him hard, poured everything he was feeling into Ben’s mouth. The anger. The confusion. The fear. Ben accepted all of it willingly, lips parting for him and proffering sounds that only served to ignite Callum’s blood. He made it feel so easy, hands coming up to frame his face, keeping him close as he sucked on Ben’s lower lip. Callum could taste the alcohol on him, felt drunker now than he had before and loved every second of it, unable to find the will to pull away from him. 

It was his tongue that pushed Ben’s teeth apart. It was his hands that went to the buttons on Ben’s shirt. It was his force that started pushing Ben back until his spine hit the panelled wood of the park shop. It was Ben’s fault. Those moans. Every single one Callum managed to tear from his throat ran south, made him harder. Whitney had never made noises like that for him. Like she wanted, needed, to have him. 

Ben’s very vocal approval of his haphazard movements served as reassurance, encouraged Callum to press in against hip bones as he decorated the delicate skin at his neck with messy kisses. Ben writhed against him, head leant back to allow him better access and letting him feel that he was hard too. Callum groaned then, teeth accidentally scraping against the fraction of Ben’s collarbone that he’d exposed. Callum felt the shudder that ran through him, a hand coming up to clasp tightly in his hair and push him closer, wanting him to bite. 

“You’re so hard.” Callum observed, voice deep and huskier than he’d ever heard it before and Ben, much to his surprise, chuckled. The taller couldn’t remember ever hearing him laugh like that, without any callousness behind it. 

“What did you expect?” Ben murmured and Callum could make out his grin, teeth reflecting underneath the moonlight. 

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, embarrassed by his own naivety. Suddenly all too aware that he didn't have a clue what he was doing. Ben must have sensed it because almost immediately, two hands tenderly framed his face and pulled him down to kiss him gently. Almost too gently.

“Ya don’t have to do anything.” Ben whispered, sounding genuine.

Callum thought about it then, forehead pressed against Ben’s as they both caught their breath. He was being offered a get out of jail free card. He could walk away right now and it still hadn’t been anything more than a kiss at the end of the day. He could, but that wasn’t what he wanted. 

Shaking his head, he leaned down and pulled at Ben’s lower lip with his canines until it was back in his mouth. Heat flared between them once more, chemistry sparking at nerve endings like live wires, especially when Ben ground their hips together roughly and made Callum choke.

What Callum lacked in experience, he made up for in effort as hands slid underneath Ben’s shirt to dig nails into the lightly defined muscles in his back, avoiding the area he knew the other wanted him to touch. His nerves were stalled when Ben nibbled sharply on his bottom lip, fingertips suddenly encasing his left hand and guiding it down his body.

The ex-soldier had never really understood lust in its most primal sense. He was a romantic at heart and with the exception of Whitney, had never really had the opportunity or the desire to have sex with anyone. When he finally did lose his virginity, it had been slow and sweet. He’d been careful with her and she with him, both of them making sure the other felt safe. 

Ben didn't feel safe. A dangerous adrenaline kicked through Callum’s veins when Ben pushed the strain in his jeans against his palm. The feel of him ran straight to Callum’s own, leaking, heat and he moaned straight into Ben’s mouth. He felt Ben’s grin stretch across his face, not daring to open his eyes and meet those wicked blown pupils. On an impulse of nothing but bravery, Callum moved his other hand from where it was pulling at Ben’s waist and shakily undid the first button on the other’s black jeans. 

“Hang on,” Ben muttered, halting his hands and suddenly switching their positions. Callum opened his eyes, unsure as to what was happening. Before he had the chance to ask, Ben licked a long line up his neck and whispered seductively against the lobe of one of his trademark ears. 

“You first.”

Callum gulped, a quarter relieved, a quarter scared and half completely turned on. The second he nodded his tentative approval Ben was on his knees and working at an impressive pace to release his throbbing erection from its denim constraints. Callum was thankful for the alcohol when Ben’s fingertips hooked around his boxers, instead focusing on how it felt rather than the cold hard fact that he had a man ogling his dick like it was his favourite dessert. 

Meeting Ben’s eyes was a mistake. The eyebrow raise suggesting that he wasn’t disappointed by his size and the less than subtle lick of his lips communicating what he was about to do. 

Callum’s mouth still fell open when he actually did. 

Clenching fingers in Ben’s hair, Callum thought he was going to come when Ben took his entire cock down his throat like he was fair game. 

“Ben,” he moaned, his brain unable to locate any other words. 

“Feel good?” the Mitchell asked, smirking as he pulled off to lick at his slit. 

“Yeah.” Callum managed, eyes screwed shut as he concentrated on not shooting his load down Ben’s throat. 

“Thought so.” Ben murmured smugly, stroking him with a calloused hand. His following observation of “you taste good.” was barely audible but Callum registered it anyway, grateful to the darkness hiding the red blush warm at his cheekbones as Ben resumed his work. 

Callum watched the hollowing of Ben’s cheeks as he sucked on him, tracing veins on his dick with his tongue and seemingly enjoying it in a way the other couldn’t understand. Strong thighs threatened to buckle underneath Callum’s weight when Ben dug short nails into his hip bones for leverage as he deep-throated him. Unfiltered and explicit curses mixed with moans of approval fell, unprocessed, from Callum’s mouth. He should have known that he would get off on the thrill. The danger. That was why he’d joined the army in the first place. Despite all of the terrible things he’d seen, he’d never felt more alive than when warning shouts of the enemy attacking had erupted through base. Those moments had taught him how truly precious life was. He hadn’t experienced that feeling since. Not until now. 

The fifth thing he learnt about Ben Mitchell was that he didn't seem to have a gag reflex. He sucked dick like that professional he was. Callum shook off the thought of how many other men Ben had done this to, unsure as to why the question made him grit teeth together. He was soon distracted. It was too much. The feeling of Ben’s tongue, hot and wet, licking up his length and collecting every drop of pre-come that he spilt. He was going to come. 

More abruptly than he meant, Callum pulled Ben to his feet by his collar and kissed him. He could taste himself on Ben’s tongue and that was weird. The remnants of salt hit his tastebuds, not unpleasant but definitely foreign. He tried not to think about it, couldn’t for long anyway because Ben’s hand found him again. 

“Excuse me,” the convicted criminal murmured against his lips, “I was enjoying that.” 

“Me too, but,” Callum croaked. Unsure of how to ask for what he wanted, trembling hands found the second button on Ben’s jeans. Undoing it, he pushed them down. Just enough. 

“But?” Ben asked, squeezing lightly at his crown and making Callum gasp. After regaining his senses and gathering courage, Callum slid his fingers inside the fabric and took hold of Ben’s own hardness. He watched as the Mitchell’s gaze flicked down before meeting his eyes and arching an eyebrow which held a question he didn't know how to answer.

“Together.” Callum muttered, running his hand experimentally up Ben’s length. 

He liked the way it felt. The fact that he could feel Ben wanted him in the same way. That despite his cockiness, his body was betraying him. Ben’s sharp intake of breath when he applied another notch of pressure to his grip only served to calm the flush of embarrassment burning Callum’s skin. 

“Okay,” Ben nodded, leaning in to kiss him messily, “okay, deal.”

As Ben resumed jacking him, Callum mirrored his movements. He picked up speed when the other did, matched the flicks of his wrist and applied pressure at the tip as he did his best to kiss back. He’d never felt so connected to someone. Every time Ben moaned it made him moan. Every time he thought Ben was close, he had to bite back his own orgasm. Every time Ben gasped his name his heart beat a little harder. 

“Ben, Ben,” Callum tried to warn, “I’m gonna.”

“Same,” came the hurried response. Callum had expected a cutting line, a sarcastic comment about nice guys not finishing last and yet instead, as he raked dilated eyes over Ben’s handsome face, all he found was honesty. 

Callum’s orgasm hit him like the brick he’d thought about offing Ben with. Body convulsing, the only thing that kept him responsive was making sure that his counterpart got there too and sure enough, within seconds, shots of come were coating his own knuckles. Ben’s swollen lips kissed him through it even though Callum’s mouth had stopped working. His self control was shattered as he inhaled on lungfuls of the thick night air, every sense overwhelmed by the high that had taken away his ability to even see straight. 

Eventually, when Ben’s hand finally released him and with lust-fuelled desires sated, Callum crashed back to Earth with a bang. When he fled, leaving Ben’s shouts of his name far behind him, he ran without any clue as to which direction he was heading or where he wanted to go. His only prayer was that his legs wouldn’t give out underneath him. 

*

Finally having decided to head home after walking the square for what felt like hours, Callum read the texts Whitney had sent in his absence. Somehow, he managed to decipher them without an interpreter. 

_Whegrre arer yopug? 01:15 AM_  
_Leavingrg nowe, see ytpu at home 01:27 AM_  
_I love you so muhc xc 01:32 AM_

It was gone two in the morning when he finally crept back into their flat, closing the door as quietly as he could behind him. Shuffling to the bedroom door, he opened it to find Whitney sprawled across the duvet in her silky black pyjamas. The floor was littered with clothes and makeup wipes which Callum had stocked up on for her. She was asleep, snoring softly in a drunken coma which she would suffer for in the morning. 

That precise moment was when the guilt hit. He looked upon her sleeping, unsuspecting frame and felt disgusted at himself, unable to believe he’d put something so perfect in jeopardy for a quick fumble in the park. Stomach heaving, he only just made it to the bathroom where he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. Shakily getting to his feet, he took the longest shower of his life, scrubbing until his skin was raw. 

Once exhaustion eventually took its toll, Callum got into bed next to Whitney and curled an arm around her. Tears stung at his eyes when she subconsciously snuggled in closer, obviously feeling protected in a way Callum had failed her. Shame, he realised, was a worse feeling than suppressed desire. Tonight had been a mistake. One that he wasn’t going to make again if his life depended on it. 

As Callum lay there, it dawned on him that the sixth thing he knew about Ben Mitchell, was that he’d given him the power to tear his life apart.


	2. A Bit Of A Rookie But, He Soon Warmed Up.

The second Whitney awoke Callum bolted, citing a dead arm as an excuse. He barely got a wink of sleep all night, staring at the ceiling in disbelief about what had gone down. He wasn’t a cheater. This wasn’t him. For Ben Mitchell of all people? That slippery, sarcastic son of a bitch who would sit and watch a film of his suffering equipped with a large box of popcorn. Callum was furious. Furious with himself for betraying the love of his life. Furious with Ben for leading him so far astray. Furious that he couldn’t get the look on Ben’s face when he came out of his mind. 

Abandoning a concerned Whitney under the covers, he took a second shower and turned the water up so hot it nearly scalded his skin. As the flaming jets battered his shoulders, he fought the urge to smash skull into white tiles every time he remembered how good Ben’s hands had felt. What the fuck was happening to him? Donning his work suit, he left Whit’s call of his name far behind and exited through the front door, making an excuse about needing to clock in early. He headed for the cafe first, in desperate need of a good cuppa and an iced bun to drown his sorrows in. 

Callum hadn’t prepared himself to see him, heart stopping the instant their eyes met. Anxiety tightened in his chest, seeing him conferring with Jay over breakfast. Had he told him? Was he about to become the laughing stock of the square? Swallowing hard, he spun on his heels and left the way he’d come, desperate to get as far away from Ben Mitchell as humanly possible. This was just how life was going to be now, a constant state of perpetual Ben-related terror. Storming through the market, it didn't take long for the voice plaguing his nightmares to echo loudly behind him. 

“Alright?” 

Callum carried on walking, not wanting to look back. If he had his way, he never wanted to set eyes on him ever again. 

“Uh, fine, yeah,” he muttered, “just forgot my wallet.” 

“I can pay for your breakfast.” Ben called after him. 

The taller could sense it. The arrogance in Ben’s tone. It made his blood boil. How could he be enjoying this? Where did he get off on ruining other people’s lives? Resisting the urge to wipe the smirk from his mouth, Callum turned quickly on the spot to face him. 

“No, you can’t.” he fumed. 

“Why?” Ben asked, eyebrow cocked, “cause of last night?” 

“I’m not talking about this in public.” 

“Then come to the car lot?” 

“I’m not talking about it, full stop.”

“Hey, we’re just two mates chatting,” Ben shrugged, feigning innocence. 

“And that’s how I want it to stay,” Callum reaffirmed, just in case he hadn’t made it fucking clear enough. “Just mates.” 

Callum shook his head as Ben started preaching a load of rubbish that didn't actually apply to him. He could pretend it never happened. He could, because it didn't mean anything. The previous night had been a mistake, a serious error in judgement that the whiskey was responsible for. He wasn’t trying to fight anything. He was straight. Nothing needed to change. He wasn’t going to throw his relationship away with someone he loved because of a drunken tryst in a park. No chance. Especially not for the smug bastard in front of him. 

“You’re wrong,” Callum interrupted, “it’s not who I am, I love Whitney.” 

The younger Highway was grateful when he walked away and Ben didn't persist. Fuck this guy. Fuck him and his handsome face. Fuck him and his judgemental ocean eyes. Fuck him in his purple t-shirt that hugged the torso Callum had scratched nails down last night. 

If he had turned back to look at him though, he’d have seen the undeniable roll of Ben’s eyes that communicated he didn't believe a word of it. Even though the Mitchell son didn't follow, his words? Well, they followed Callum around all damn day. 

_Saying it doesn’t make it true._

*

Proposing? Callum would be the first to admit that it hadn’t been the first thing on his mind this morning. He’d been backed into a corner by he who shall not be named and didn't see another way out. In a panic after their encounter, he decided he just wanted a normal life. He wanted him and Whit. Together, the way they had been for over a year now, with a dog and a flat and maybe even babies one day. She was perfect. Everything he’d ever dreamt of and he was not having that scuppered. Not by anyone. 

Her reaction hadn’t been what he’d expected at first. She’d clearly noticed his odd behaviour these last few days, the shock on her face so evident that his stomach turned for reasons he was unable to tell her. Still, she’d said yes. That was enough for him right now. They could live the perfect life. A normal, traditional life. All he had to do was push all thoughts of Ben and what he’d done from his mind. He could do that. 

He meant everything he’d said to her. He couldn’t imagine a life where he didn't wake up looking at her. She was never, ever going to lose him and, more importantly, he did love her. More than anything. It confounded him every single day that she was interested in him when she could have anyone she wanted. She’d chosen him and for that, he would show her his endless and undying gratitude. 

As he cuddled her close, listening to the specially chosen lyrics of Scouting for Girls in the background, he was comforting himself just as much as he was her. 

Walking into the pub together, Callum wondered what sins he’d committed in a previous life when he saw him sitting there, nursing a scotch. Had Ben put a tracker on him? He couldn’t seem to go anywhere without being reminded of what they had done. Callum shot dagger eyes in his direction in a warning before giving Whit some cash to get the drinks in. Excusing himself, he paid Ben absolutely no mind when he brushed past him on the way to the gents. 

_Can’t keep away from me can ya?_

*

Shameless. That, Callum decided, was the perfect word for Ben Mitchell as he washed his hands. He met his smirking reflection in the mirror, unsure as to why Ben was so okay with pushing until he got his nose broken. 

“You followed me.” Callum replied, stating the facts. 

“I was in the pub first!” 

Callum sighed, shaking his head in frustration as he rested his weight against the sink and desperately tried to refrain from rearranging Ben’s face. 

“Your missus looks happy,” Ben observed, toying with his hands. “I wonder what got you going enough to put a spring in her step.” 

Callum spun, at breaking point and barely managing to control his temper. He looked Ben straight in the eye when he spoke.

“Let’s get this straight, ain’t got nothing to do with you.” 

“Unfortunate turn of phrase,” Ben practically cackled, eyes sparkling with glee. 

Callum moved to leave, absolutely done. He wasn’t planning on finishing the day up for a murder charge and couldn’t trust himself for a second longer. Unwilling to let him off that lightly, Ben’s arm quickly blocked his way. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Ben whispered, stepping closer. Almost too close. Callum retreated back against the sink. “You always remember your first don’t you, certainly I do.”

Callum refused to look at him. Who was he to decide what he was? Who was he to tell him what to do? He didn't belong to no scene and he certainly wasn’t ditching anyone. There was no adventure to speak of. It was one night, that’s all. Still, the closer Ben got, the hotter his skin felt.

“M-move,” Callum croaked, voice catching as Ben glanced him up and down. He cleared his throat. “I mean it.”

“Nah,” the brunette rogue shook his head. 

“Ben,” Callum didn't like how desperate he sounded, “please.” 

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why are you doing this to me? Huh?” Callum pushed at Ben’s shoulders, “where do you get off?”

“With you, in kids playgrounds,” Ben smirked, “or do you need me to remind ya?”

Callum’s blood ran below the waist at the seductive change in Ben’s tone. He didn't understand why he felt so tempted, why his body reacted the way it did. 

“This,” Callum tried, “this ain’t fair.” 

As Ben’s mischievous grin revealed blunt teeth that the night before had been biting into his neck, Callum’s eyes glanced down at Ben’s mouth the same way they had done back in the Beale’s house. The day that had ruined his life. 

“Too bad,” Ben almost sung, eyes raking over him and bottom lip pouting, “so sad.” 

Callum shook his head, speechless as Ben’s pupils dilated like he’d just been delivered his main course. He couldn’t move, frozen still until Ben lifted long lashes and muttered words that shattered the last of the resolve he was clinging to. 

“I dare you.” 

He hadn’t had to because within what felt like nanoseconds, Callum had him pinned against the newspapered wall. He kissed him hard, needing him to shut up. Interestingly, Ben didn't battle back the way Callum had expected him to. He let Callum’s hands find his neck, draw him in deeper so he could suck on his lower lip. He opened his mouth first, allowing Callum’s tongue to slide against his without any resistance. Callum enjoyed the guttural moan he made when he pulled his hair, fingers gripping tight in the dark strands as he went to work on his throat with a newfound confidence from somewhere he couldn’t name. Ben chuckled hoarsely when Callum’s canines bit down on his pulse. 

“Always did like it rough,” he muttered. He pulled at Callum’s tie until he kissed him again, stubble scratching with the amount of pressure behind it. 

Callum, on the other hand, had never had rough sex in his life. Had always assumed it wasn’t his cup of tea. He was a gentle soul, respectful. Whitney, well she’d never displayed a liking for that sort of thing. She had to be worked up, slowly encouraged by sweet-nothings in her ear and Callum’s fingertips circling her heat. She always came the same way and by now, Callum knew how to please her. He didn't always finish, but that was okay. He’d always liked the fact that she was romantic, or at least thought he had.

There was something about the way Ben arched desperately against him that ignited a fire in his gut that Callum didn't recognise. As Ben’s hip bones met his, grinding his hardening dick against his thigh, Callum didn't feel like being gentle. He didn't feel like the sweet, idiotic simpleton everyone thought he was. Ben never called him Halfway. Only that one time which was more as a dig than anything else. Ben looked at him like an object of lust and that was a sensation he’d never experienced before. A sensation that turned him on. 

It was then that Ben interrupted his train of thought as he continued his assault on his now swollen mouth. Hands were suddenly pushing at his waist and Callum stumbled back until he hit the cubicle door. He fell through it, understanding Ben’s intention and grateful for the scrap of privacy. Ben refused to break the kiss, arm clumsily reaching back to lock the door as he pressed Callum up against the wall. 

Callum grinned into the crook of Ben’s neck when he got frustrated, unable to twist the latch into the correct position without giving it his full attention. He took over for him as Ben’s hands resumed their loosening of his tie, jacket quickly shrugged off. Ben pulled away long enough to look him up and down as nimble fingers undid the first two buttons on his shirt. 

“You look hotter like this,” Ben observed, “messed up a bit.”

He was right too. Callum was hot all of the time anyway but still. Hair ruffled, bitten lipped and pink flush high on his cheeks? Even better. 

“W-what are we doing?” the taller stuttered when Ben’s hand roughly palmed him through his trousers. They weren’t as thick as his jeans and Callum could almost pretend that he was touching bare skin. That was all he really wanted if he was honest. Just once more. 

“Just two mates, chatting.” Ben smirked, enjoying the way Callum’s skull leant back against the wall when he applied more pressure. 

“This isn’t funny.”

Ben found it ironic that Callum managed, even in the moment, to sound disapproving. 

“Who’s laughing?” he answered, fingers finding buttons and a zipper which were currently the only barrier separating him from what he wanted. 

“Ben,” Callum warned, hands coming to lace around his to stop him. “Not here.” 

“You,” Ben whispered, on his tiptoes and nibbling at Callum’s tempting earlobe, “need to learn to live a little.” 

“I, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“Ten outta ten for observation there. So?”

“So I can’t,” Callum inhaled sharply when Ben trailed kisses along his jaw. His hands found Ben’s shoulders, pushed him back just enough to give his nerve endings a break from the boy’s devious mouth. Enough to at least try and reclaim a modicum of common sense. He met Ben’s glazed eyes and did his best to look determined. “I can’t do this.” 

“Can’t do what, Callum?” Ben responded swiftly, brows arched in accusation, “can’t screw me til’ I’m shaking against this wall? Well damn. That is a shame.” 

Callum’s jaw fell open, his face almost comical if there hadn't been so much weight behind the moment. Those weren’t the lines he’d been thinking along. He’d assumed Ben wanted a repeat of yesterday. Maybe for Callum to go down on him this time. He had not been expecting Ben to want to go that far and yet the blown eyes staring him down, they were serious. 

As Callum thought about it, the rise and fall of his chest obvious, he supposed it made sense that Ben liked taking dick. There was something about him, another thing Callum had learnt, that liked being dominated. He could feel it when they kissed and Ben would go all pliant and boneless against him. When Callum had hit him, he hadn’t swung back. Every time Callum had seen him overpowered, he always had a grin plastered across his face. It made sense that someone who walked around with so much bravado had to lose control sometimes. Callum just hadn’t ever assumed that Ben would want to lose control for him.

Ben must have seen the way Callum’s eyes darkened at the prospect because the smile that stretched from ear to pretty ear was a man about to get what he wanted. Callum lunged for him, instincts taking over as he slammed Ben back against wood and prayed no one in the pub could hear them. 

“That’s what I thought,” Ben muttered as Callum licked inside his open mouth. 

Callum’s hands found Ben’s jeans, made quick work of undoing them. Before he could get them around his ankles, Ben reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. His hands were shaking a little as he found what he was looking for, offering it to Callum with a glint in his eye that the taller didn't quite understand. He tried not to dwell on the fact that Ben had so much sex he carried around a stash of condoms just in case. Before he had time to let his inexperience get the better of him, Ben’s hands below his waist served as a decent enough distraction. 

“You sure about this?” Callum asked, when Ben freed his erection from its restraints, tugging on him gently to be sure he was hard enough already. As if he needed confirmation. 

Ben didn't answer him, instead taking the rubber clasped in Callum’s hand. Ripping open the foil with his teeth, he put it on for him. Made Callum shiver when cool hands made gentle contact with his swollen cock. The younger Highway couldn’t believe this was happening, had never even considered what it might be like to be inside a man. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, when Ben kissed him all deep and urgent, he couldn’t find the will to deprive himself of the opportunity to find out. 

Ben, as demanding as ever, turned to face the wall of the cubicle of his own accord. Palms braced against wood as he waited impatiently. Callum stilled for a second, hands resting just above Ben’s waist. He didn't know how to explain that doggy-style wasn’t his thing. Plus, he was so much taller that the geography was all wrong and they didn't have much space to play with, his hips situated somewhere around Ben’s midriff.

“What am I waitin’ for?” Ben huffed, craning his neck to look back at Callum. 

“Not like this, won’t work.” 

Callum tugged Ben back by his shirt collar, catching him when he nearly tripped over his shed jeans. He closed the lid of the toilet seat, ass cold against the porcelain as he sat down and pulled Ben on top of him. Ben who, when he realised what Callum was suggesting, tilted his head coyly as he arched a questioning eyebrow. 

“I’m the unfair one, huh? You’re gonna make me ride ya?” 

“It’s the only choice you got,” Callum answered honestly before leaning in and capturing his mouth. Ben kissed back just as firmly, hips rolling in his lap as he moved to shift Callum’s dick closer to where he wanted it. 

“Besides,” he continued, breaths heavy, “I wanna see.”

Callum got the surprise of his life when Ben chose to reward his candidness by reaching around, taking hold of his cock, positioning it against his hole and sinking down halfway. No pun intended.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Callum moaned, conscious of Ben’s hissing above him as he tried to shake off just how good he felt. “Don’t that hurt?” 

“Yeah,” Ben grimaced, nodding as he hid his face in the crook of Callum’s neck. 

“S-so stop,” he stuttered, hands fisting tightly in the fabric of Ben’s shirt, “you don’t have to.”

“Just gimme a second,” Ben groaned, shifting a little and making Callum’s toes curl when he took another inch, “it gets better, needa relax.” 

Callum held him tight, ran his hands soothingly up and down Ben’s back. Nudging at his cheek until he lifted his head up, Callum kissed him softly in efforts to distract him. Sure enough, once he felt Ben’s muscles stop tensing, he became looser around him. Inch by inch, Callum eventually felt the backs of Ben’s thighs touch his and he was certain, so undeniably certain, that he was going to come. 

“Ain’t gonna last,” Callum confessed, eyes screwed shut in concentration as Ben began to move on top of him, “feels so good.”

“Don’t,” Ben almost pleaded, hips rolling down a little harder every time he lifted off him. 

“You’re tight,” Callum moaned, glad he wasn’t standing when his legs started to tremble. 

“You’re huge,” Ben shuddered, head back in pleasure now that the pain was beginning to pass. “It’s true what they say about men with big hands huh?” 

“Thought you were the expert.”

The rebuttal came through gritted teeth. For Callum, reaching orgasm had never been an easy feat. It always took so long, had to close his eyes and transport himself someplace different. Somewhere where he was someone different. Yet now, with Ben riding him and sinking down on his shaft with each grind of his hips, he realised he’d made a mistake in choosing to face each other. 

Ben’s blissed out expression was unlike any he’d ever seen him wear. He looked younger, less afflicted by the traumas he’d been subject to throughout his life. Peaceful and handsome without his usual frown twisting lines across his forehead. The irony wasn’t lost on Callum as he studied him, that Ben had never looked more innocent than when he was being fucked. Still, the string of expletives that fell from the boy’s mouth when Callum experimentally lifted his hips to meet him would have made even his crackhead mother blush. 

“Shhh!” Callum slammed a hand across Ben’s mouth, “someone’ll hear!” 

“Do that again,” came Ben’s muffled whimper before his teeth grazed at his palm, “please.”

Callum did as he was told, seen as he was asked so nicely. Unfortunately though, just as he suspected, the deeper he thrust inside Ben the quicker his undoing approached. Ben didn't seem to mind that he was teetering on a knife edge, moaning into his neck and licking into his mouth and biting every inch of skin that he could reach. Callum took hold of his leaking dick and started to stroke him, conscious of how close he was. It reassured him when Ben started trembling, breaths getting caught in his throat every time Callum pushed up and hit a spot inside him he seemed to like. A good sign that they were on the same page. 

To Callum’s utmost surprise, Ben came first and didn't even bother to warn him. One minute he was holding off his own orgasm, gripping Ben’s waist as he ground down against him and the next minute, Ben’s moans became erratic against his lips and suddenly, jets of white come exploded over his hand. Watching Ben lose it, eyes closed and mouth open and writhing like a whore, made Callum come. In that instant, despite the euphoria as his whole body went rigid, he wished that there wasn’t a layer separating him from filling Ben up with the load he’d so well earnt. 

Almost as quickly as Callum had seen him change, Ben’s walls were put up once more. Slowly rocking hips against him a further four times, he placed a brief kiss to his lips before grimacing as he lifted off his now softening cock. Callum’s mouth fell open and closed as he watched him get dressed, following suit when he couldn’t think of a better alternative after flushing the evidence.

“You’re not a bad fuck,” Ben grinned as he did up his jeans, “for a rookie.” 

Callum still couldn’t find any words when Ben unlocked the door to the cubicle and washed his hands before deserting him like nothing had ever happened. He turned back only to wink at him, calling a sentence over his shoulder which Callum had heard before. He stayed there for another five minutes, feet rooted to the floor, dumbfounded and staring after a man who could turn a life on its head and saunter off without a care in the world. 

_Call me sometime!_

*

After finally emerging from the gents and refusing to acknowledge he who must not be named who had reclaimed his seat at the bar, Callum made his excuses to Whitney. He said he’d had to take a phone call, not meeting the judgemental glance he could sense was being cast his way. On further thought, Callum announced to the pub that he and Whit were engaged. 

_A bottle of champagne for me and my fiancé please!_

He’d never admit it but, he wanted to see the look on Ben’s face. He wanted him to see that they were happy. That he was nothing. That he’d had his fill, both figuratively and literally. 

He wanted him to understand that two could play at this game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With these two having been on a emotional rollercoaster these last couple of nights, I've held off posting this. Suddenly, the writers doubt crept in and I felt a little bit like I was cheapening something important. Posting because now they're boyfriends *squeals* I feel like a little corruption along the way might not be so bad. 
> 
> Drop me your thoughts if you want me to continue this, a little encouragement/constructive criticism would go quite a way in helping me decide whether to go on at this point! Thanks so much to everyone that left kudos and comments on the first chapter and those who firmly voted for Top Callum on my tumblr poll! This is for you. :) 
> 
> Love,
> 
> RainingCantaloupes.
> 
> xoxo


	3. You Know Me, Full Of Natural Energy.

Callum was so busy burying his head in the sand, that he only made it to work the next day because Whitney had pulled the covers off him after he’d insisted on yet another five minutes. He’d had one too many glasses of champagne the night before and awoke with a headache pounding around his temples.

Despite the alcohol, he hadn’t slept well. His dreams interrupted twice in the night by memories he’d rather forget. Memories of his time in the army. Memories of Chris.

When he was awake, Callum could force recollections of those years to the back of his brain, did quite regularly in fact, to stop them from affecting his day to day life. He tried not to think about the fact that he probably had PTSD. One way or another, they all did. There was no way you could escape war without being traumatised to some extent and Callum saw no point in dragging up experiences that he never wanted anyone else to know about. He didn’t want pity. He was alive, not all of them had been so lucky.

_Everyone’s a little messed up really._

He wasn’t much of a talker anyway, never had been. That was why the natural ease he felt talking to Chris back then had left Callum so fascinated by him. Never before in his life had he felt so comfortable in the presence of someone else. Those moments, bantering away in the kitchens or training back at base together, had been the one and only thing that kept him sane.

_Separated at birth, you two!_ That was what their fellow comrades used to say. Callum did wonder whether being around Chris was what it felt like to have a twin. To feel so connected to someone, to just click as if you had been wired the exact same way. Back then, a glint in the eye here, a knowing smile there and they immediately knew what the other was thinking. Callum didn’t miss the war but he did miss him.

Yesterday evening, Callum had carried on drinking in the Vic even after Ben left. He’d sat there for about an hour or so, narrowed eyes glancing over in their direction every now and then as Callum had become more and more drunk. He’d started laughing louder, held Whitney closer, shoved their joy in his face just to make sure that the moody Mitchell heir across the bar got the message. Eventually, Ben had backed a double whiskey like it was water, hopped off his bar stool and told Jay, who’d joined him by this point, not to wait up. Callum’s fingers had tightened so hard around his glass he thought he'd heard it splinter.

“Come on lazy bones! You’ll be late!”

Cracking a relenting eyelid open, Callum only just managed to avoid the pillow that Whitney whipped in his direction.

Exhaling on a deep sigh and willing himself to move, he rolled over and decided it was time to face reality. All he could do was hope that today would be entirely free of unstable, handsome and emotionally incapable bad influences. 

*

Callum and Whitney walked together hand in hand on their way to work, her palm soft and small in his. She was babbling away happily, talking about her new designs and he was only half listening. Away with the fairies and wondering why still, even now, his betrayal with Ben didn't feel real. 

“Earth to Callum,” Whitney spoke, interrupting him from his train of thought when she came to a halt outside the Vic, “are you listening to me?” 

“Yeah babe, course.” Callum nodded. If he carried on like this he’d end up with a nose longer than Pinnochio’s. 

“So what did I just say then?” 

“Erm,” Callum racked his brains, it was something about whether to go with the denim or the plaid. “That you’ve got the best fiancé ever who you are going to forgive for being hungover this morning?” 

Whitney giggled, letting him off because he was adorable. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“I know,” he replied honestly, “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When Whitney’s eyes lit up with happiness, Callum’s mouth widened on a smile that was so genuine it almost hurt. His heart panged when the reality of his actions hit, made him wonder why he was endangering something that meant so much. Leaning down, Callum placed what he had planned to be a brief kiss at her lips but instead, Whitney wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him there. 

Callum hated the fact that it didn't feel the same. His chest flooded with a tender, fond warmth and that was where the similarity ended. There was no electricity humming through his veins, no goosebumps at the back of his neck, no twinge of arousal burning down south. He kept his lips firmly pursed. It wasn’t unpleasant, not in the slightest. He didn't feel disgusted or turned off. He just didn't feel anything. 

He kept his hands on her waist all the same and endeavoured to make an effort, especially when Whit’s palms came up to frame his face. Callum’s eyes squinted open a fraction as she tried to deepen the kiss and it was then that he clocked him out of his peripheral vision. 

Ben was sitting on a bench in the middle of the square next to Jay and maybe he was just imagining it but to Callum, it looked like he was watching. Closing his eyes and pretending he’d not noticed, he kissed Whitney back with more vigour before she eventually pulled away. 

“I suppose I better let you get off,” she grinned, fingers interlocked with his. “Maybe we can continue this later?” 

“Can’t wait,” Callum smiled, focusing every single brain cell on not sneaking a glance in Ben’s direction. He didn't want him to think that any part of the show they’d been putting on was for his benefit. 

Whitney offered him a cheeky wink before pecking him goodbye and heading in the opposite direction to fill the hours separated with sewing and sketches. Callum, on the other hand, made a very quick beeline for work and didn't once look back to see if the man he’d had sex with yesterday was still staring. 

*

The funeral parlour had become something of a sanctuary for Callum since he had failed his medical. He’d never expected to enjoy it, thought it would be a constant source of doom and gloom but actually that wasn’t the case. It was a peaceful place, quiet and calm for those grieving to say their last goodbyes to people they loved. 

Amidst the grief, despair and occasional deep regret that walked through the doors, Callum found himself wanting to help their clients in any way he could. A funeral was the start of a healing process, of letting go. He knew that none of the people left behind could move forward until they had remembered their dead and for Callum, it reminded him of honouring comrades lost during service. Being part of that process, a calm and soothing presence amongst the chaos, restored a sense of pride in his heart. It also served as an ever-present reminder that some people really did spend their whole lives together. 

_Take it from me son, find yourself a good woman._

“Oi, mate. I’m just popping out for some lunch,” Jay called from the hallway, “you need anything?” 

“Nah, all good. Cheers!”

Callum turned his attention back to the paperwork his was busy trying to file, hearing the door slam shut as Jay made his exit. He always ended up doing the administrative side of the job. Jay had a knack with the punters but was one of the world’s worst when it came to organisation and to be honest, Callum preferred it when he just sod off occasionally and let him sort things out rather than moaning every five minutes about he bored he was. 

Callum was just getting into his stride, on his fifth out of eighth folder and concentrated enough to not be thinking about he who shall not be named for longer than ten seconds, when two brisk knocks surprised him from the door-frame. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. The intruder wasn’t a welcome sight. 

“Good day sir!” Ben sauntered casually into the room, “I was wondering whether you could help me with a stiff?” 

“Get out.” 

“Just having a laugh.” Ben chirpily rapped knuckles on Callum’s desk. 

“What d’you want?” 

“I just wanted to congratulate you,” Ben started, eyes twinkling with mischief, “you didn't say you was thinking about proposing, or was it just a spur of the moment decision?” 

“Alright, just leave.” Callum tried again, more firmly this time and motioning to the exit. 

“There was actually one more thing,” Ben pulled a face that immediately told Callum that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. “The police are on my case again about that van, so I want you to lie and I want you to give them a description of the guys that ripped me off.”

“I never saw ‘em.” Callum stated truthfully, shaking his head at the audacity of the man stood in front of him. 

Ben looked at him like he was an idiot, eyes flickering to the left as though he’d completely missed the whole fucking point. 

“That’s why it’s a lie…”

“I’m not lying to the police for you.” 

“But Callum, you’re so good at lying!” Ben pushed, knowing smirk plastered across his face as he braced his weight against the desk, “I think you’re getting better and better and I want to utilise that skill.” 

Callum looked away, eyes rolling to the heavens for help. He hadn’t ordered a side of guilt with his lunch and more than anything, he hated the power Ben now held over him. 

“Unless you don’t wanna lie anymore,” Ben continued when Callum reluctantly glanced up at him, “in which case, I can help you to tell the truth.” 

Callum thought for a moment about the easiest way to get Ben off his back, the quickest way to get even. He supposed that if he put the child in the sweet shop, he might be able to catch a damn break one day soon. 

“I do this for you, you leave me alone.” 

“Good man,” Ben quickly agreed before coyly tilting his head at him and making Callum’s mouth dry out, “although... I’m slightly offended that you want me to after yesterday.”

A fierce blush immediately coloured Callum’s cheeks, spreading the proof of his embarrassment clear as day across pale skin. The worse thing about it was the sheer delight Ben seemed to take in making him uncomfortable, his cheshire cat grin revealing teeth.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

“I wasn’t suggesting we did.” Ben replied, moving to perch his fine ass on the desk and not giving a flying fuck that he was ruining Callum’s neatly stacked piles of paper. 

“D’you mind?” Callum asked abruptly, annoyed by how his heartbeat picked up the further Ben leant over. 

“Nah,” Ben smirked, “do you?” 

Callum’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, Ben’s lust blown eyes encouraging him to find words that refused to come. He saw Ben’s experimental glance down to his lips and froze when he inched closer, so tempted. Heat flushed his skin as he willed himself to roll back on the wheels of his office chair and put some space between them. 

“Don’t,” Callum croaked, Ben's mouth millimetres from his. He stared at his lower lip, pretty, pink and begging to be sucked. “Please.” 

“You sure?” Ben murmured, voice husky and low. “You want me to stop?” 

Callum stayed completely still, overwhelmed by conflicting thoughts. He didn't want to be this person. A liar and a cheater. A fraud. He wasn’t like other men. Sex had never been one of his priorities, had never gone looking for it or felt so desperate for it he couldn’t control himself. He was a committed man with the perfect life which was why he couldn’t explain, even to himself, why as if on instinct he found his head offering a tiny shake. A shake which Ben took entirely as permission. 

Ben looked him over once more before his dipped his head down to gently claim his lips. So gentle in fact that Callum didn't understand it. The brief kiss lasted only a moment before Ben pulled away slightly, gave Callum the time to escape his trap. When he didn't, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ben’s mouth before he leaned in a second time. 

Callum responded with more pressure when Ben’s mouth found his again, the pace tantalisingly slow. Ben’s tongue ran tentatively across his lower lip to taste him and Callum immediately felt his dick twitch. His hands automatically found Ben’s neck, thumbs framing his jaw as he pulled him closer to deepen the kiss.

Kissing Ben felt nothing like how it had kissing Whitney goodbye a few hours ago. He told himself it was because he wasn’t in public this time, had no prying eyes on him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Shivers shuddered down his well built frame. His heart almost stopped in his chest, anticipating every potential touch that Ben might decide to offer. 

As if telepathic, Ben’s hands ran slowly down his neck so lightly they almost tickled. The rough and ready brunette lifted his legs over to Callum’s side of the desk before moving to settle in his lap. If Callum was honest, he was grateful for the press of weight against him. For the heavy pressure and friction he worried he was becoming addicted to. Long arms immediately wrapped themselves around Ben’s waist, pulling him close as their kiss grew hotter. Callum liked the taste of him sober, a thick treacle sweetness mixed with dashes of spearmint. Ben chuckled into his mouth when Callum tried to lift enthusiastic hips against him. 

“Uh uh,” Ben scolded gleefully, tapping at his thighs to still them and keeping the kiss so slow it was almost torturous as far as Callum was concerned. Doing his best to find some self-restraint, Callum honed his senses in on the fact that Ben was a good kisser. He rested his hands just above Mitchell hip bones and squeezed lightly, just wanting to feel him whilst their tongues brushed together. He’d never been so hard just from making out before and he knew Ben could feel it. 

What Callum didn't predict, was Ben’s teeth pulling sharply at his lip. The moan that escaped the elder was guttural, the world behind closed eyes morphing red before Ben suddenly broke away from him. As he let eyelashes flutter open, Ben’s own blue irises were almost black as they stared back at him. Callum liked the visible flush gracing his cheekbones, at least it wasn’t just him. 

“Did kissing her earlier make you moan like that?” Ben asked, the arrogance behind his tone communicating that he already knew the answer. 

“What?” Callum asked, brow wrinkling on a frown. He never could resist ruining the moment could he, why did he always have to spoil everything? 

“Just trying to prove a point.” 

“You ain’t proving nothing.” Callum shot back quickly, letting his arms fall from Ben’s sides. 

“Neither did you this morning,” Ben muttered. 

It was then that Callum practically saw the metaphorical penny in the air hit the ground. The heart hammering in his chest sped up at this new-found knowledge, excited him even though he knew how dangerous their situation was becoming. 

“You’re jealous.” he whispered, astonished doe eyes wide in realisation. 

In an instant, the two hands Ben was resting at his shoulders pushed him back so hard that if Callum hadn’t been sitting down, he’d have lost his footing. 

“Fuck off,” Ben retaliated, suddenly back on the desk and swinging his legs over the other side to stand up without any concern for the papers he left strewn across the floor. 

Callum saw how his arms crossed defensively against his chest, walls up like an invisible barrier between them. He saw how Ben’s mouth pursed into a tight-lipped frown. He saw how cold his eyes became, the murderer in him suddenly clear as day. Callum saw that for once, he’d hit the nail bang on its head as Ben’s own words rang loud in his ears. 

_Suddenly, it all falls into place._

“You are,” Callum started, eyes glued on him, “you’re actually jealous.”

“I’m serious Callum,” Ben warned, pointing a finger directly at him, “shut the hell up cause’ you ain’t got a clue what you’re on about.” 

“So what you doing here then?” Callum got to his feet, “huh? You saw me on my way to work this morning, happy with my fiancé and not sparing a thought for you and you couldn’t bear it could you? That’s why you’ve come, because you love it. You love causing trouble.” 

“I swear to god, if you don’t shut your mouth -”

“What?” Callum fired, “what are you gonna do Ben? Hit me? Beg me to screw you again? Mess up my life just a little bit more so you can feel less fucking lonely? Nah, not this time. Whatever this was, it’s done. We’re done.” 

The second Callum had said it, he regretted it. He saw the pain that flickered across Ben’s face as he stood there, silent for a change. He knew that Ben was heartbroken underneath all of the bravado he carried around with him, had seen him vulnerable. Ben had trusted him enough to open up the night of the flat warming, even if he had been encouraged by the side effects of a bottle of vodka. Callum had never intended to use that trust as a weapon, didn't even recognise the spiteful person behind the words. 

From the look on Ben’s face, neither did he. 

“Feel better?” Ben asked quietly, eyes like icicles. 

Panic set in then. The steely look of determination Ben was wearing, the hostile tone in his voice. They made Callum wonder what he was about to do, whether he’d pushed too far. No matter what, the bottom line was that he needed Ben on side if he didn't want the life he’d so carefully carved for himself torn apart. 

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean t -” he tried. 

“Nah,” Ben shook his head dismissively, brushing him off. “You’re right, I probably am lonely but you know what I’m not Callum? At least I ain’t pretending. At least I know who I am.”

Callum's own brow furrowed, the shame he felt almost sickening as his gaze fell to the floor. Unable to meet Ben’s judgemental eyes, he stayed quiet.

“Enjoy your perfect little life, I hope it makes ya happy.” 

With that, Ben turned on his heels and marched out the parlour, slamming the door behind him so hard that the whole building seemed to rattle. 

For the second time in forty-eight hours, Callum stared after a man who was obviously well trained in walking away from his feelings and didn't try to stop him. 

*

Unexpectedly, Callum received a text from Ben less than fifteen minutes later. He read it immediately, certain that he was about to be outed to the whole square. Instead, he found a single sentence that left him unsure as to how he felt. 

_Tell the police what they wanna hear and you won’t be hearing from me. 13:17 PM_

The first thing Callum did was breathe an almighty sigh of relief. If he could do this one thing, then his secret would be safe. For now at least. The worst thing about getting involved with Ben Mitchell of all people, was that Callum could never be one hundred percent sure what he was about to do. He was like a ticking time bomb, primed to destroy anything and everything around him whenever he felt like it. It was of no surprise to him anymore that Ben had a reputation for tainting everything he touched black. It also didn't go unnoticed by Callum that the worst thing about himself, was that a revived part of his brain thrived off that unpredictability. 

“Alright mate?” Jay called as he arrived back from his break armed with a bacon sandwich, a portion of chips and a large coffee because he was a greedy bastard. “You can go grab yourself some lunch now if ya want, I got it covered.”

Callum smiled at him and nodded, taking up the invitation with open arms. He could use the fresh air to clear his head. “Cheers mate.” 

He headed to the cafe in pursuit of the iced bun he never got. Much to his dismay, he spotted Ben on his way out as he walked through the door. He stood there awkwardly. Looking and trying not to look all at once. He didn't need to meet Ben’s eyes to visualise the smirk across his face. Still, when Ben’s shoulder brushed his bicep as he past him, Callum stared at the spot as though he had been scalded. 

“What can I get you, love?” 

He ordered a white coffee alongside his sticky treat despite a sudden loss of appetite. Before he could get too wrapped up in his thoughts Whitney appeared and her presence, unconsciously to her, immediately comforted him. 

“Just the bloke I’m looking for!” she grinned. 

“That’s good, considering we just got engaged.” Callum beamed back, running hands down both of her arms as if reminding himself how perfect she was. Especially as he seemed to keep forgetting these days. 

Whitney explained how the purpose of her visit was to collar him into providing back up at her meeting with the market coordinator. He’d tried to talk his way out of it but she was persistent, so much so that eventually he decided it best to just come clean. She was not happy, confused as to why he’d had such a change of heart. Why, after initially being so angry, Callum was planning on lying to the police in efforts to protect the man who had mugged him off and of course, Callum couldn’t tell her the truth. 

“I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal outta this,” he tried to reason. 

“Well you will, won’t you Callum? When he gets prosecuted! What if Ben is found guilty and the police start wondering why you were so keen to stand up for him, eh? If Ben goes down, so will you.”

“It won’t come to that,” he muttered, shaking his head in desperation. 

“No, it won’t! Because you’ll see sense and you’ll tell him it won’t!”

“Either of you lovebirds havin’ that?” Tiffany interrupted, gesturing to the plate Callum hadn’t even touched. 

Pushing it in her direction, he had never been more grateful for an excuse to leave Whitney's side. 

_Good luck with Lister, yeah?_

*

“We’ve figured out what’s going on here, with you and Ben.” 

Anxiety fired on all cylinders around his body as Callum feared the worse. After the end of his shift he’d gone to find Whit, feeling guilty after their earlier disagreement and having not been able to focus all afternoon. He was mad at himself for taking out his frustrations on the only innocent person in all of this and even if she didn't know that, he wanted to make it up to her. Despite his best efforts, she was still acting frosty and to make it worse, Ben’s ears must have been burning because he walked right past the three of them and into the cafe. Did that boy never have anywhere else to be? 

“Yeah and it has gotta stop.” Tiff nodded, both sisters backing each other up.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Whitney’s tirade continued, “you can’t keep being nice to everyone all the time.”

Callum kept his eyes on the floor, unable to look her in the eye when she started talking about how people always took advantage of him. She thought he was weak and he couldn’t even deny it because she was right. If only she knew how weak. 

“Alright, yeah,” he mumbled, “I get what you’re saying.” 

“Yeah, you get what I’m saying but doing something about it is another thing ain’t it.” Whitney rebuked whilst Callum tried to ignore the giggle that Tiffany was busy stifling as her sister tore into him. 

“I will,” he nodded, unsure if he even had himself convinced. 

“Yeah you will,” Whit agreed seriously, “because I’m gonna make sure of it.” 

Callum’s heart dropped as she stormed into the cafe in pursuit of one person and one person only. The only person Callum hoped she would never have any contact with again. He followed quickly behind, desperate to stop her even though he was well aware that there was no way to stop a woman on a mission. 

He was too late anyway. Sheepishly, he shuffled in behind her to listen as she went off on one. Callum didn't dare look Ben in the eye as he sat there, smug as ever before he’d even opened his mouth with an arm resting lazily across the back of the chair. 

“I don’t know what it is that you’re up to and I don’t wanna know. What I do know, is that you’re not to get Callum mixed up with it all.” 

Whitney gestured towards him as if reaffirming her point and Ben’s eyes immediately burnt lasers into his skin. Callum wanted the ground to swallow him. Couldn’t remember ever feeling so humiliated as he thought about all the wisecracks Ben could make right now if he wanted to. The expression on his face looked like he was really thinking about it too, left eyebrow arched as if in debate. Callum looked at him and offered a tiny shake of his head, begging for his silence. 

“Well, this really is me getting told isn’t it?” Ben sighed, looking more relaxed than Callum could ever imagine feeling again. 

“Call it what you want Ben, all I’m trying to do is clear the air.” Whitney replied, oblivious to the fact that her future husband was stood behind her contemplating all the ways he could off himself thanks to the mortification. She was too busy glaring at Ben to notice that his cheeks were tomato red. 

Ben did notice though, calculating gaze flickering back and forth between them as he considered the most subtly mocking response he could find for her. 

“And that, is very important that we all do that,” he began and Callum was sure that he could see Ben fighting to control the upturning corners of his mouth, “so at least we all know where we stand.” 

The patronising son of a bitch looked at Callum when he said it. The elder chewed nervously on his own tongue, wanting nothing more than to get out of there sharpish. Mercifully for him, Whit seemed satisfied having said her piece and moved to leave herself. 

Callum hung back just a moment to throw one last glance at Ben before he followed in pursuit like a lost puppy. Admittedly though, even he wasn’t sure whether it was supposed to be a warning or an apology. 

_As long as you’ve got the message._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, just building a little tension. ;)
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone whose offered me reassurances this week after the writer's doubt crept in. The support from you guys got me through it and now, well, we're on a journey to say the least! I'm integrating requests where I can along the way, so hopefully no one is disappointed! If you've got time then I've definitely got a penny for your thoughts. <3 
> 
> Love,
> 
> RainingCantaloupes.
> 
> xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> If you can spare the time please drop me your thoughts about other missing scenes you'd like to see! I'll probably be deviating from the plot a fair bit because as EE airs everyday, I'll never be able to keep up so it's a free for all up in here and I love a bit of inspo! Any comments, criticism and feedback is hugely welcome! 
> 
> Love,
> 
> RainingCantaloupes.
> 
> xoxo


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